Darkened Stars
by pheaux
Summary: Besides the Thunder, Shadow, River, Wind and Sky clans, there are two other clans that had grown from rumors of the five original clans. These two clans are called Mossclan and Cobraclan. Follow former rogue Firestorm as she tries to find a permanent home with a new family.


Firestorm opened her amber eyes, long claws unsheathed, and glared right into the black gaze of... fur? Drawing back with startled blinks, Firestorm realized that the "eyes" she had seen were actually the black spots of Spottedcloud's fur. Oops. Firestorm glanced around with narrowed eyes, angry at herself for being so mouse-brained. Good, no one had seen her mistake. Her reputation was still intact.

The dark ginger warrior sheathed her claws. She didn't need them yet. She glared at Spottedcloud, mad at herself rather than the black spotted, white she-cat. _Why can't I get these things out of my head?!_ Firestorm screamed to herself, lashing her tail in frustration. It was only her third day in the clan, and she still couldn't get the weird dreams she had been having out of her head.

The dreams started off with her in an unfamiliar territory. It always varied from desert to plains to forest or some other environment. Then storm clouds randomly appeared in the open, blue sky. This also changed from every dream. Sometimes it would be thick, or sometimes thin, but most often, it was in the median. Then the rain would come. This never changed. It was always heavy, enough to quickly cause a flood in a flat land. Firestorm would then hear cries of cat calling for other cats. The names were the same, though she had never heard them in her real life. Half of the names were clan names, but the other half were rogue or housecat names. Always the same, every night since a few days before Firestorm joined the clan. The dream ended long after the yowls of drowning cats, when Firestorm began to break down and collapse from the pain of knowing she could never save those unknown cats.

Firestorm didn't even realize she had unsheathed her sharp claws again, until she saw the deep scores that ran a short way in front of her. She sheathed them yet again, though with some effort. She breathed deep, trying to calm down, but failing miserably. The dark ginger she-cat was trembling still from the effects of that awful, haunting dream.

Eventually, Firestorm stopped shaking, but it took a few minutes, enough that Firestorm could see a few other cats grumbling in their sleep. The clan was going to wake soon.

The amber-eyed warrior stood up, not trusting her black colored legs all that much, and shakily stepped out of the warriors' den. She was instantly calmed. Part of the reason she was so nervous after the dream, or so she suspected, was that she was around a very large group of cats, and a small den. Firestorm wasn't nervous about sleeping near a large group of cats, she did it all the time, or about being in a small den. It was the fact that they were combined. Firestorm usually slept with a large group of cats in an open area like a large barn or small field. If she ever slept with cats in a den, there were only three or four other cats. But this clan had nine warriors, enough to make Firestorm very, very jumpy.

Firestorm looked across the camp, scanning to see if other cats had woken up. No. She was alone. That was fine with Firestorm. She padded over to the apprentices' den to check on the smaller cats. The bright white apprentice named Whitepaw lay a bit from the entrance, and had her ears covered by her sister's black tail. Snakepaw was a dark brown she-cat with a reddish tint, like the scales of a cobra. Their brother, a brown tom named Molepaw, was currently on Dawn Patrol. Petalpaw was curled up near the back of the den, her long whiskers twitching in her sleep.

Ducking out of the apprentices' den, Firestorm sniffed the air. The medicine cat, Dustpetal, a tortoiseshell with a white belly was sleeping peacefully, Firestorm could tell. Froststar, the pure white leader, and father of Whitepaw and Snakepaw, was also asleep, though his scent indicated he was soon to wake up. Mewling from the nursery told Firestorm that Dustkit and Weaselkit were awake, but their mother, Birdpelt was not.

Firestorm smiled a bit, knowing that her new family was well. She trotted over to the exit of the camp, and, after one last look around, escaped the confines of the barrier. The dark ginger she-cat walked for a few seconds, then suddenly put on a burst of speed, her long legs eating up the mossy ground as the warrior raced towards the large river that split up the territory between her clan, Mossclan, and their rival clan, Cobraclan to get a drink.

She slowed as the dark blue river came into view. Stopping at the edge, Firestorm peered into the depths, seeing herself reflected in the bubbling water. She lifted her head to stare across the border, and scanned the Cobraclan territory. No cat was there. Strange. Firestorm was sure she had scented a Cobraclan scent.

"Hello," a lilting voice mewed behind her. "Ahh!" Firestorm yowled as she jumped in surprise and stumbled, falling into the river. Firestorm almost gasped at the sharp bite of the freezing water, but instinct kicked in immediately, and Firestorm started to swim, her lean muscles working to keep her afloat. The amber-eyed warrior broke the surface, and swam to shore. She stood on the dry land, now turning wet from the river water dripping off of Firestorm's fur.  
She turned to where the cat stood, and opened her muzzle. But the cat wasn't there. Firestorm turned to look at the other side of the river, and wasn't surprised to see the same cat staring at her from across the bank.

"I could've drowned!" Firestorm told the she-cat angrily, her amber eyes narrowed in frustration.

"But you didn't," the rival warrior pointed out with slight amusement, that just made Firestorm even angrier. The she-cat was small with short legs, and a long, fluffy tail. Her back and neck were black, but her belly, legs, tail and head were white, but a gray splotch covered her chest. Her eyes were a dark blue.  
"Who are you?" Firestorm demanded of the tri-colored warrior.

"I'm Littlestream. Named because of my size at birth, but my eyes as a warrior," the other she-cat answered in that musical voice of hers.

Firestorm grunted. "I'm Firestorm. Named because of my pelt and my temper," she replied, using the same way of speaking as the Cobraclan warrior.  
Littlestream nodded. "Nice to meet you!" she chirped, then turned and ran off, her long tail streaming behind her.

Firestorm blinked in surprise. Weird. That was what Littlestream was. Weird. Making a note to find her again at a gathering, whatever that was, Firestorm turned and headed into her own territory again, contemplating the strange meeting.

Firestorm caught a mouse and a finch on the way back to camp. As she dropped her prey on the fresh-kill pile, the dark ginger she-cat noticed that Froststar was awake and laying down on the rock just outside of his den. The deputy, Nightstorm, was speaking to him about patrols. A few warriors were up, including Spottedcloud, and all the apprentices were with their mentors, though Whitepaw was still waiting for her mentor to come back from Dawn patrol.

Dustpetal was crossing the camp, presumably to check up on Greenwillow, who was due to kit in several days. Firestorm padded over to her side, walking with the medicine cat.

"Hello, Firestorm," Dustpetal said, greeting the former rogue with a slight nod of her head.

"Hello. How's Green doing?" Firestorm asked, using her habit of calling cats by the first part of their name.

"Well. She'll have healthy kits for sure," the medicine cat replied. Firestorm nodded, and veered away as the Dawn Patrol entered camp. Molepaw carried a small mouse, while his mentor, Stoneclaw, was walking beside him, carrying a brown rabbit and looking extremely pleased. Otterfoot followed behind them with a squirrel hanging from his muzzle. The patrol set the fresh-kill on the food pile, and Stoneclaw and Molepaw headed off for their dens to sleep. Otterfoot, who was strangely hyper, went to join his apprentice.

"Firestorm!" a high-pitched voice exclaimed. Firestorm turned around to see Weaselkit running out of the nursery. Dustkit followed more slowly, looking around cautiously before padding slowly to join his sister.

Firestorm watched as Weaselkit ran to greet her, then snorted with amusement as the ginger kit tripped and fell on her face.

"Are you alright?" the warrior asked, padding up to the small kit and nudging her to help her up.

Weaselkit nodded, her amber eyes, disturbingly similar to Firestorm's, sparkling with happiness. Dustkit joined them, and sat down beside his sister.

"There they are." Firestorm saw Birdpelt stick her head out of the nursery.

"Hello," Firestorm greeted the black and white queen.

"Good morning, Firestorm. Sorry to bother you, but could you watch my kits for a while? They won't let me get some sleep. And by they, I mean Weaselkit," Birdpelt said, indeed looking tired.

Firestorm nodded. "It would be my pleasure," she agreed as Weaselkit smiled innocently at her mother's comment about her.

"Thanks." Birdpelt ducked back inside the large nursery, probably to get some much-needed sleep.

As soon as her mother was out of sight, Weaselkit jumped up and down with excitement. "Can you take us out hunting?" the small kit asked, her tail waving from side to side quickly.

"Weaselkit," Dustkit prodded, giving his sister a pointed look.

"Sorry, but you can't go out of the camp. I may have just joined the clan, but you and I both know kits aren't allowed out of camp," Firestorm teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Oh, alright," Weaselkit moaned, sitting down dejectedly.

"Could you teach us techniques instead?" Dustkit inquired, sitting down with his striped tail wrapped neatly around his paws. His green eyes were calm and focused on Firestorm.

_How much more different can they get? _Firestorm wondered. "That I can do," she said.

Weaselkit resigned herself to learning techniques and sat down next to Dustkit as Firestorm dropped in to the hunting pose. "You want to keep your weight spread evenly along each leg," she explained. "and when you move, slide your paws along the ground, being careful not to scuffle the dirt or grass too loudly so the the mouse doesn't hear. You slide because mice can feel tremor in the ground, and they'll run if there's too much shaking."

Weaselkit was fascinated, and immediately jumped up to try to do it too. Dustkit paid attention and carefully studied how Firestorm did everything.

"Like this?" Weaselkit asked, trying to copy the warrior, and then promptly tripped, again.

"Good try," Firestorm encouraged. "but do you know where you went wrong?"

"She put too much weight on her front paws, and didn't use her tail to counter it until she distributed her weight again," Dustkit answered almost immediately.

Weaselkit "hmphed". "Why don't you try it then, Mr.I-know-EVERYTHING," she challenged.

Firestorm nodded. "You were right, Dust. Why don't you try it now that you know everything Weasel did wrong?"

Dustkit seemed to blush slightly, and shook his head. "I-I don't think I can," he murmured quietly, bowing his head.

Weaselkit bounded up to his side. "Come on! We won't laugh if you fail!" she encouraged, nosing his fur.

"There's no point in asking to know techniques if you won't try them," Firestorm pointed out.

"All right." Dustkit sighed, but reluctantly stood. "Like this?" he asked, copying Firestorm's pose almost perfectly.

Firestorm nodded, impressed. "You would definitely be able to catch mouse," she said, smiling at the small kit. Dustkit blushed, and sat back down, obviously flattered.

"Let me try again!" Weaselkit exclaimed, jumping up. She got interrupted by a familiar annoying voice.

"That's not the way you hunt!"

Firestorm inwardly sighed, and turned to see Bumblefur approaching.

_Here we go again, _Firestorm though, irked by the appearance of the striped warrior.


End file.
